I am often asked why I would bother majoring in English. Do you want to teach? No. Not particularly. Are you going to law school? I can't do that. I have an overactive conscience and am entirely incapable of backing up my arguments with facts. What do you want to do then? I want to write. I want to create and inspire the hearts of others. Those who appreciate power of words as much as I do know the intoxication you feel by a well-written novel. Or a movie with clever dialogue. Or a TV show that never seems boring.

I know how impractical I sound. I know how difficult it is to make a living this way. Maybe I'm in over my head, but so what? Wouldn't you rather chase an impractical dream than live life with so many regrets? I would. Hands down. No doubt in my mind. Even with the fear of rejection and failure lingering inside me every moment, I know I would rather fall flat on my face trying than do something I hate for the rest of my days.

But the greatest answer has yet to be given. Why do I write? Well, honestly, I write because I find it easier to express myself that way. I've never been much of a talker. I speak when spoken to or when I absolutely have something to say. Talking is frightening, especially because every time I talk, I know something is going to come out wrong. Sometimes I say sentences backwards. Sometimes I mix words together. Mostly, by the time I've gathered my thoughts to speak, the conversation has taken multiple turns and my statement no longer makes sense.

Yet, when I write, these problems don't exist. I can say how I feel. Even better. I can create a picture of how I feel. Instead of saying I'm sad and hoping someone cares, I can make an image that is relatable, so others can feel with me too. I can create my own world and live inside of it. I can manipulate it to react how I want. To me, that's the only way to cope when everything around me is falling apart. When so much in this world is unpredictable and scary, I can control my own imagination and rely on my own mind, all through the power of letters on a page. Isn't that amazing! Maybe not to everyone, but certainly to me and so many others who are like me.

My mind may be crazy and is certainly jumbled, but I know how to align those thoughts on paper. Sometimes, we quiet and introspective people need to find an outlet. Only then will people unlike us begin to understand us. That is why I write and why I do not intend to stop for the sake of another's opinion.